


Passing Through (Seasons)

by thatsrightdollface



Series: KamiHaji Week 2018 [5]
Category: Kamisama Hajimemashita | Kamisama Kiss
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Poetry, Seasons Day, a poem in four parts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 20:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15714894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsrightdollface/pseuds/thatsrightdollface
Summary: Mizuki from season to season.





	Passing Through (Seasons)

**Author's Note:**

> KamiHaji Week 2018 continues!! I had a lot of fun with this one, tbh.
> 
> Thank you for clicking on the story/poem, and.... I hope your day is going wonderfully~

1\. It is spring

 

And Lady Mitsuha Yonomori

Is standing in the rain. 

She’s catching it in her hands

And laughing,

So she tastes the freshness of it

And the jewels pinned in her hair

Seem so sweet and liquid, trapped in silver.

Mizuki thinks, just for a second,

That maybe the rain on his goddess’s cheeks

Looks like tears.

But he swats that thought away

Like a fly that got into the shrine somehow.

He gathers up water – rain and

River, both together – and spins

It between his own hands,

Into serpentine shapes

Into something like a gasping-quick

Puppet show.  A little scene

Acted out for her, so that she’ll

Tell him he’s clever.

She claps, and the world smells

So alive all around them.

 

2\. It is summer

 

And the air has become

All oil and noise, all the clatter of hulking machines –

The world is full of human workers smashing around

With their boots and calm, unknowing voices.

They can’t be expected to realize

What sort of goddess they’ve drowned

Building their lake.

Rewriting the human maps under a hot, sticky sun

And carrying their lunches around

And chatting like nothing at all is the matter.

You know how humans can be sometimes,

When they forget what land they’re walking on.

Forget what was there before,

Guarding, waiting, as cicadas sing

And the days grow so long.

These new humans cannot know that the white snake,

Slippery and cold-eyed in the water weeds,

Is watching them…

And even if they noticed Mizuki,

He wouldn’t expect them to realize

The divine purpose they’ve stripped away

From him.

 

3\. It is autumn

 

And Mizuki doesn’t realize it.

Outside – beyond the cold of the lake,

The cold of the shrine, the

Cold of his unflinching face and

Poison-bright eyes –

The leaves are falling.

Crinkling apart, like old paper

Like maps grown useless

Showing a river that used to run through

That place, and a shrine beside it.

The air might smell like fresh apples,

Like warm drinks, like freshly washed

Sweaters just pulled out of the back

Of all sorts of human closets…

But Mizuki wouldn’t care

About any of that, anymore.

His world is such a still one

Waiting for a goddess that can never come home –

He is in a pocket of frozen time, at the bottom of the lake

Where no leaves fall.

 

4\. It is winter

 

And Mizuki just woke up

Bundled under piles and piles of blankets…

More than he fell asleep with, actually,

Which probably means that Nanami

—(His new goddess, his nearly-human

Beautifully impossible goddess) –

Woke up earlier

And noticed him shivering in his sleep.

Snow is falling

All around their shrine, just then,

And the lake swallowing up Mizuki’s first shrine

Is probably frozen over

Looking like mist on the face of a mirror.

He can smell it in the air, that snow,

Just the same way as he can already hear

Nanami bickering with her other familiar,

As something homey and safe

Gets itself all cooked up over the stove.

The world is soft, again – somehow.

 

Somehow.


End file.
